


One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

by Eilera



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Lance is Trash, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shance Valentines 2019, Shiro's a Garbage Man, Shy Shiro (Voltron), lance is thirsty, or so he says, sibling meddling, two dorks being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera
Summary: Lance had been doing this for weeks now, gathering up last minute pieces of trash and rushing them outside so he had an excuse to talk to his not-so-secret crush. He’d even rescheduled his work shift so that he would be available during the usual pick-up time. Now if only he could scrape together enough courage to ask him out as easily as he grabbed last minute garbage.He could do this, dammit!“Are you a garbage collector?” Lance asked, resting his hand on the edge of the truck and leaning on it casually. Some of the trash he was holding fell to the ground. “Because I want you to come grab my junk.”(In which Shiro is a garbage man and Lance is smitten.)





	One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, Michelle (28CornDogs on Instagram)! I hope this fits under 'unique au's that you can only find one fic of'. I was totally going to do the suit shop AU, but then I stumbled across this idea and it grabbed me. Hope you enjoy these two dorks. 
> 
> Special thanks to [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/works) for beta'ing as usual.

Lance stared out the window expectantly, foot tapping a beat on the worn carpet of the home he shared with his sister.

“You know you’ve gone way past pathetic, right?” Veronica said from behind him.

Lance didn’t dare glance at her lest he miss what he was looking for outside, but he could easily picture the unimpressed expression on her face.

“Shut up,” he muttered, craning his neck when a vehicle showed up in the distance. His shoulders slumped as it got closer and revealed itself to be just a stupid truck. Way to suck, truck.

“Why don’t you just ask him out already? That’s usually not an issue for you.”

“I am going to ask him out!”

“That’s what you said the last twelve times.”

“I can’t help it if I get distracted by his pecs. Have you _seen_ them?”

Veronica sighed in fond exasperation. “You’re hopeless.”

“I am n-oh my God, he’s coming!” Lance yelped, running around his sister’s house and picking up bits of garbage.

“Hey, that’s not garbage!” Veronica snapped, yanking a bundle of papers from Lance’s hands.

Lance was hardly listening, gathering his special bundle of trash and running for the door. He paused at the mirror nearby, checking to make sure he didn’t look like an idiot. He’d carefully styled his hair and put on his tightest pants. He was ready.

Veronica came up behind him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Wait, that look on her face…

Lance shivered in dread, moving to take a step away from his demonic sister, but she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and practically kicked him out the door. She then shoved a piece of paper into his pocket before closing the door behind him. There was the telltale sound of the door locking.

“Veronica, what the fuck!?”

“I’m doing you a favour, my dearest brother,” Veronica’s voice drifted through the door, sounding way too smug, dammit! “Give that hot piece of ass your phone number or you’re spending the night outside!”

“Veronica!”

Silence.

“Veronica! C’mon!”

He just barely heard the sound of laughter from inside.

He would get her back for this.

Lance rushed up to the sidewalk and waited in anxious anticipation.

Coming up the street at a sedate pace was a large garbage truck, the intense temperature of the day making it look wonky as the heat waves warped it. As it drew closer, Lance could just make out the usual driver, a man with golden brown eyes and long hair tied back in a loose ponytail. When he noticed Lance, his lips twisted into a shit-eating grin.

Jesus, was everyone judging him over this!?

Lance had been doing this for weeks now, gathering up last minute pieces of trash and rushing them outside so he had an excuse to talk to his not-so-secret crush. He’d even rescheduled his work shift so that he would be available during the usual pick-up time. Now if only he could scrape together enough courage to ask him out as easily as he grabbed last minute garbage.

He could do this, dammit!

As the truck pulled up beside Lance, his heart stopped beating as the most beautiful man to ever exist on God’s green Earth, hopped down from the back in what Lance would later swear was an honest-to-god moment of slow motion that he would forever be thankful for.

The man wasn’t wearing a shirt, probably due to the heat, and he was fucking _glistening_ in the sun, like some lubed up Greek statue molded by the gods. His black hair was short with a buzzed undercut and a large scar cut across his nose giving him a deliciously dangerous air completely at odds with his kind brown eyes.

Lance swallowed carefully as his own traitorous eyes trailed slowly down the man’s bare chest. Holy _fuck_ , Lance must have done something saintly in his past life because oh sweet baby Jesus those abs, because of _course_ he had a six pack, each muscle clearly defined. Lance wanted to run his hands all over them, thank you very much. He had some scars on his body and a badass metal prosthetic which Lance would have questioned if he hadn’t noticed the army tags around his neck.

A veteran.

Lance was going to die of heart palpitations if Mr. Sexy didn’t stop being so damn…sexy.

Lance gaped at the gorgeous god as the man swept his forearm across his forehead to wipe away some sweat and smiled at him.

With a smile like that, Lance couldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Are you a garbage collector?” Lance asked, resting his hand on the edge of the truck and leaning on it casually. Some of the trash he was holding fell to the ground. “Because I want you to come grab my junk.”

The man’s impressive eyebrows furrowed slightly, confused. “Um, okay?”

Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!

That actually worked?

It was the tight pants, wasn’t it?

Mr. Sexy stepped closer, almost tentatively, and Lance’s heart went into overdrive. Was he seriously going to touch Lance out in the middle of the damn street!? Holy _fuck_ , the man was brazen!

Lance was _not_ complaining.

He held his breath as the garbage man reached for him, oh God, his hands were huge, what-

The man gently took the trash from Lance’s hands and tossed it into the back of the truck.

Oh…

Lance heard the telltale sound of someone slapping their forehead in frustration. Probably the driver. Lance could appreciate the sentiment.  

Mr. Sexy sent him another one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You’re the only one that comes running out with extra trash. It’s, uh, nice.”

Lance blushed, trying not to squirm in embarrassment. “Well, you know, the environment is, like, my home so…gotta…take care of it…”

What the hell was wrong with him!?

The man rubbed the back of his head nervously, causing his muscles to shift enticingly.

If he didn’t stop being so damn hot, Lance was going to have some issues in these tight pants.

“Plus, my sister locked me out of the house so I’m kind of stuck out here.”

Mr. Sexy blinked in surprise, glancing up at the house. To Lance’s eternal shame, his sister was standing by the window like the world’s biggest creeper, giving Lance a thumbs up when he looked at her over his shoulder.

“Why did she lock you out?”

“Because I’m trash,” Lance laughed awkwardly, not daring to look up at the other man. This was a mistake, Lance shouldn’t be trying to ask out _this_ guy. He was way out of Lance’s league!

The garbage man cleared his throat nervously. “Well, um, if you’re trash then I’m obligated to pick you up. Is seven okay?”

Lance blinked at the sidewalk. Did he just-?

That was smooth as fuck.

Mr. Sexy shifted anxiously. “I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of m-”

“YES!”

The man’s jaw clacked shut at Lance’s vehemence, eyes wide in shock.

“I-I mean, yes, please! Any time! Wait. That sounds desperate. I’m not-okay yes, I am. I’ve been picking up trash as an excuse to come see you, of course I’m desperate, have you seen you? I even wore my tightest pants because I know my assets and you certainly know yours. I mean, damn, you’re just-you. There. Looking so…you.”

Lance winced at his verbal diarrhea, glancing up at the man terrified he’d scared him away before they’d even begun.

Mr. Sexy gave him a shy smile and, holy shit, he was _blushing_! It was kind of adorable.

“Oh…okay then. I-I guess it’s a date,” The man stammered, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“A-a date,” Lance agreed, grin so wide it was hurting his damn face.

“R-right.” Mr. Sexy backed up a step, bumping into the truck awkwardly. His shy eyes darted to Lance, somehow blushing even more as he gripped the handle at the back of the truck and hopped back on.

“I’ll, uh, see you tonight then.” He smacked the side of the truck to indicate they should move on.

“SHIRO! You didn’t pick up the fucking garbage, you dumbass!”

Lance broke into a fit of giggles as Shiro stammered out an apology and grabbed the garbage near Lance, dumping it in the back like the heaping can weighed nothing. Hot damn.

As Shiro hopped back onto the truck, Lance heard the sound of a window slamming open.

“Lance, give him your number, you idiot!”

Lance nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Shit!”

He shoved his hand in his pocket to pull out the piece of paper his sister had given him. Shiro took it gracefully, looking down at the number scrawled messily on the crumpled paper.

“’Hi, my name is Lance. If you already have a boyfriend, that’s cool, but I thought you might need a husband. Here’s my number’?” He read out loud.

Lance groaned, covering his face with his hand.

“Veronica!” he squawked, embarrassed.

Shiro smiled, carefully tucking the paper into his pocket after folding it neatly. “I’ll see you later, Lance.”

“B-bye, Shiro!”

Lance watched as the truck made its way down the street.

He had a date tonight.

A date with a gorgeous garbage man that should have been a model.

Him.

Lance.

…What the hell was he gonna wear!?

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to talk to me about Voltron on [Tumblr](http://eilera-chan.tumblr.com/). :)


End file.
